


Apollo and his weakness

by Katfish_1967



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, the only reason it’s tagged major character death is because they come back to life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katfish_1967/pseuds/Katfish_1967
Summary: Enjolras looked up when the sound of footsteps could be heard from behind the soldiers. He saw Grantaire push his way through the group of men to stand by his side. He smiled slightly when he felt him grasp his hand.





	Apollo and his weakness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom so I hope you like it.

**1832**

 

Enjolras looked up when the sound of footsteps could be heard from behind the soldiers. He saw Grantaire push his way through the group of men to stand by his side. He smiled slightly when he felt him grasp his hand.

 

Enjolras straightened his back, held the red flag in his hand up and tried not to let his fear of dying display itself on his face as he felt the first bullets rip through his skin.

 

**1940**

 

Grantaire felt his ears ring as bullets flew everywhere. The sky was cloudy and dark, fitting the mood of the event below. Engines tumbled on as tanks drove through the streets of Paris. Grantaire was frantic as he moved through the streets, looking for a familiar head of hair.

 

“Grantaire!” He heard his name and turned, letting out a brief sigh of relief when he saw Enjolras. The sigh quickly morphed into a pained gasp when a bullet entered Grantaire’s side. He felt the ground rush towards him as he collapsed in pain. He stared at the sky, unblinking, until a face came into view and a hand grasped onto his.

 

Enjolras’ eyes held a storm of concern and sadness, darting across Grantaire’s face as if he was trying to commit it to memory. A single tear traced through the mud on Enjolras’ face and Grantaire gave him a weak smile.

 

“Who knew the mighty Apollo would weep for a mere mortal.” Grantaire coughed, voice croaky, and revelled in the wet laugh from the other.

 

Enjolras tightened his grip on Grantaire’s hand and Grantaire let his vision go dark.

 

**2018**

 

Enjolras had always felt like an outsider. He was labelled odd and told that there was no such thing as ‘past lives’. He was told it was all his imagination.

 

Then why did it feel so real?

 

Enjolras remembers events that aren’t in the history books he’s read. There are no accounts of two men holding hands while being gunned down during the June rebellion. There are no accounts of a man desperately cursing the sky with tears running down his face as he cradled his dead partner in his arms.

 

So why does he remember them?

 

And who is the man who always seems to appear in his memories?

 

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

 

Grantaire had been having a bad day. He’d forgotten his art coursework and he’d accidentally spilled coffee over his drawing tablet, rendering the thing unusable.

 

The cherry on top though was what was happening now. Who the fuck holds a protest when everyone is leaving their classes? People had other places to be and this was a major inconvenience.

 

Grantaire pushed himself through the crowd to see if he could catch a glimpse of the owner of the voice being played through the speakers in the quad.

 

He looked up and met a familiar pair of eyes. A pair of eyes that seemed to be as shocked to him as Grantaire was.

 

Enjolras stuttered a tiny bit before picking up where he left off in his speech, aware of the eyes still staring at him from the front of the crowd.

 

//\\\//\\\//\\\//\\\

 

The rally was eventually shut down by on-site security and the crowd dispersed, leaving the two men in an empty quad.

 

Enjolras steps down from his little stage made out of an upturned milk crate. He takes a hesitant step towards Grantaire, watching as Grantaire does the same. They meet in the middle, about a foot of space between them, before Enjolras closes the remaining distance between them in a bone crushing hug, full of whispered promises and reassurances that yes, they were here, and yes, they remembered everything.

 

Grantaire pulled back first, untangling himself from Enjolras and taking a small step backwards. He reached a hand up and placed it on his cheek, letting his fingers make themselves at home in his blonde hair. He smiled brightly and whispered:

 

“My dear Apollo, how I’ve missed you.”


End file.
